


Hot Like Mexico

by adaptation



Series: The Penny/Parker Canon Chronicles [2]
Category: VH - A Harry Potter Roleplay Site
Genre: F/M, Summer Lovin', VH21 (2023-2024), the summer before Fourth Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 12:52:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4479902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adaptation/pseuds/adaptation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The darkness flickered across his collarbone as he let the refrigerator door swing closed, drawing her attention to the little cleft there at the base of his neck. A few inches lower laid the collar of the white tank he wore for bed. His arms were limp at his sides, and his flannel pajama pants hung a littler lower on his hips than they should have. His feet were bare. It was only when she looked back up at his face that she realized he’d been watching her watch him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Like Mexico

It was nearly one o’clock in the morning when the party at 121 Walnut Street began to wind down. The muggy August air was thick even in the middle of the night, a side effect of the unrelenting heat wave that had plagued England for the last three days. As a favour to some of their more influential friends, the Kennedy-Porters had volunteered to host an evening barbeque and pool party for their business associates, so middle-aged men and women had been perusing the house and backyard for the better part of five hours. As Stephanie and Craig both worked for a Muggle business, none of the other adults present were aware of the wizarding world, and so Craig’s Wizards’ Wireless had been stashed in their bedroom and replaced with Steph’s Sony stereo, which was currently pumping some classic Lady Gaga.  
  
The music was almost as old as Penny, but she didn’t mind. She thought it was catchy.  
  
Lysandra did, too. She’d enjoyed the music so much that she hadn’t realized how much she was drinking, and ended up getting a little tipsier than she’d intended. Now, the rich and pretty blonde girl was passed out on Penny’s bed, curled in a loose fetal position against the headboard. Penny, who’d only had two cocktails and was therefore only feeling a pleasant warmth on account of the booze, wasn’t quite ready to retire. Even as the last of the guests filed out of the Kennedy-Porter home, and her parents were yawning with the exhaustion of putting on an evening of entertainment, Penny watched from the staircase, far too exhilarated for sleep.  
  
The lights in Wesley and Dick’s rooms were both off, as evidenced by the darkness which crept out from the crack between the carpet and their doors. Each of the three Kennedy-Porter children had been allowed to invite a friend over for the night of the party. Dick had chosen to invite Robert McCambley over, and the two had spent the majority of the night locked in Dick’s room with every bag of chips they could find, totally ignoring the alcohol available.  
  
Wesley, however, had invited Parker McAdams, who’d clutched a new drink in his hand every time Penny had seen him that night. The two had kept mostly to themselves, as Wesley wasn’t keen on letting Mum see him sipping the same beer all night, because Godric forbid her precious baby get completely polluted and ruin all his precious brain cells.  
  
Of course, they took the same attitude toward Penny, but she just wibbled her lip at them and they started offering her better quality alcohol. She didn’t want to get drunk. She just wanted to try out some drinks, see what she liked.  
  
Stephanie and Craig retired to bed once the last guests had departed, each of them kissing Penny affectionately on the cheek as they went. Once they’d gone, the house was eerily quiet. The night had been louder than usual, and now her ears were used to the constant ruckus of forty adults and decade-old music.  
  
The door out to the patio was still open, only the screen keeping the bugs out. A pleasant night breeze blew through into the house, and drew her attention. The alcohol had made her a bit more whimsical than she might be otherwise, and it was without a conscious decision to do so that she quietly entered her room, changed into her simple black bikini, and made her way outside to the pool yard.  
  
She didn’t jump or dive in, as so many of her peers would have. Penny tiptoed her way into the lukewarm water down the fiberglass staircase, hesitating only slightly when the water reached the tops of her thighs. Then, once she’d taken a moment to adjust, she pushed the rest of the way in, sinking in until she was entirely submerged, her cheeks puffed out with the breath she was holding.  
  
Swimming leisurely back and forth in her pool, under the Liverpool stars, with no one around to bother her was one of the most indulgent things she’d done all summer. She lay on her back, red hair feathered out around her head in the dark water as she gazed up at the sky. It was only when her fingers started to turn pruny that she climbed out.  
  
Though the air was still warm, it was chilly on her damp skin, and she took up a fluffy blue towel, wrapping it around her shoulders and using the tips to dry off her face. Penny padded back into the house, sliding the glass portion of the door closed behind her, and turned toward the kitchen for a glass of milk, only to jump in fright when a light flashed on.  
  
It was just the refrigerator. The light from the inside illuminated a familiar face.   
  
“Parker,” she exhaled. “You scared me.”  
  
“What are you still doing up, Penny?” he asked, just the slightest hint of a slur around the Ls. She cocked her head at him.  
  
“Swimming,” she said simply. He blinked at her, and then looked her up and down. Something quirked the corners of his mouth; it may have been a smile, but it died before it formed.  
  
It was dark in the kitchen. The moonlight from outside filtered in through the glass door, causing shadows to play across the angles of his face. His eyes were blue – bluer than hers, she knew – but in the lack of light they were simply dark. It lent an odd air to him – or maybe that was the alcohol. The darkness flickered across his collarbone as he let the refrigerator door swing closed, drawing her attention to the little cleft there at the base of his neck. A few inches lower laid the collar of the white tank he wore for bed. His arms were limp at his sides, and his flannel pajama pants hung a littler lower on his hips than they should have. His feet were bare. It was only when she looked back up at his face that she realized he’d been watching her watch him.  
  
Suddenly, she was very conscious of how little she was wearing, and the fact that she was soaking wet from head to foot. Her hair was plastered to her head, stringy and saturated, turned nearly brown with the water, and she must have looked like a drowned rat.  
  
“‘S Lysandra with you?” She wasn’t expecting his question, so she may have imagined the wariness that tinted his tone.  
  
“No, she’s sleeping.”  
  
“I was just… getting… some, uh, food,” he told her, ducking his head slightly. In the dim light, she thought she could make out a tinge of red on his cheeks. Her grip on the towel tightened, pulling it more closely around her.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
His eyes flickered to where her fingers were clenching the edges of the towel between her breasts, and she tensed at the inspection. It took him only a second longer to realize she’d caught him, and he jerked the refrigerator door open again, disappearing behind it. She released a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding as he popped back out with a tub of – what was that? Cream cheese? Then he scooted by her, causing her to back up into the counter, but if he noticed her reaction, he didn’t comment.  
  
After retrieving a box of crackers from one of the cupboards, he seated himself at the kitchen table. His movements were tense and hasty, but she’d noticed he was like that a lot. Every move he made around her was like ripping off a Band-Aid.   
  
“That party tonight was fun.”  
  
At first, she didn’t respond to his comment. She stayed plastered against the counter, wondering whether or not she should join him.  
  
She’d never felt uncomfortable around Parker before. At least, no more than any girl would feel around her big brother’s best friend. Any combination of things could be responsible for the change in attitude: the time of night, the darkness, the alcohol, the atmosphere… or maybe the way he’d been looking at her. The way Wesley looked at a new box of Bounce sheets, or Dick looked at trifle. Greedy with desire.  
  
“Um – yeah,” Penny finally replied.  
  
“I think your mum’s friend, the one in the mink stole, was hitting on me. She kept pouring me drinks.”  
  
“Sorry about that. That’s the problem with divorcées.” Her voice was quieter than usual. More hesitant.  
  
He nodded his assent, mouth full of cracker, and held a few out to her as he chewed and swallowed.  
  
Penny Kennedy-Porter didn’t believe in spontaneity. She didn’t have that gene. She never did a single thing without thinking it through from every angle, and the idea of approaching unknown territory scared the bajeezus out of her. That’s why her heart lodged itself firmly in her throat, and her mouth dried instantaneously as she crossed the distance between herself and Parker.  
  
He sat diagonally on the chair so that he could face her, one arm slung over the back of it as he traced her steps toward him. When she stopped between his knees and made no move to take the crackers, he slowly, reluctantly, lowered his hand.  
  
“Parker.” He looked up at her, his tongue darting out to nervously moisten his lips. She tried to swallow, but couldn’t manage it, whether from the lump in her throat or the dryness in her mouth, she didn’t know.  
  
Before the protesting voice in her head had the chance to get any louder, she ducked her head, bringing their lips together. Her hands left the spot on the towel where they’d been knotted, one settling on the back of his head and the other dipping down the column of his throat to curl around the base of his neck. She felt a hand drop to the terrycloth that covered her hip, gripping her through the towel. His lips opened under hers after only a moment’s hesitation, and her breath caught in her throat in surprise.  
  
All at once, several things happened, and in such quick succession she couldn’t tell the order. Her fingers knotted deeply into his light brown hair. Her tongue swept through his mouth. His arm slipped under the towel and curved around her bare waist. She fell into his lap, and he let out a strangled groan.  
  
One minute she was standing there, a completely separate entity, and the next she was straddling Parker’s lap, clinging wildly to him. She struggled to get closer, and he hissed, shifting her weight so that she wasn’t pressed quite so insistently into the erection straining against his flannel pants. She felt drunker now than she had after those two cocktails. Her whole body was hot under the skin, and he was holding her  _so damn tightly_ , and he tasted like cream cheese and tequila.   
  
It was only when her lungs couldn’t take it anymore that she broke their kiss. She sat there on him, panting hard as she tried to catch her breath. His temple rested against her chin, his hair tickling her cheek. His palms were hot on her skin. Somehow, her towel had ended up on the floor.  
  
For several long, pregnant beats they were silent. Then, in a rush of conflict, she half-whispered, “I have to go,” and darted out of the kitchen leaving her damp towel on the floor in front of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Curious about what happens next? Check out [this thread](http://www.virtual-hogwarts.org/rpg/index.php?showtopic=75122).


End file.
